


Getting What You Deserve

by Remma3760



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: First Times, Humor, M/M, None - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 08:48:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/796231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Remma3760/pseuds/Remma3760
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim has met the perfect woman, but will he realise that there is someone even more  perfect for him right under his nose?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Getting What You Deserve

## Getting What You Deserve

by Remma

Author's website:  <http://www.geocities.com/morennab/sentinelindex.htm>

I'd like to thank the Academy, but as they've never given me anything, I won't

Warning : Never cross the streams, it would be bad.

* * *

Getting What You Deserve  
by Remma 

So, it had finally happened, after all this time. All those dates that never led anywhere, all the psycho women, the criminal women and the murderous old flames, and now, at long last, Jim had met the _perfect_ woman. 

Vivian, a paediatric surgeon, and so doubtless brilliant with kids; a nice wasp background with all the right schools and clubs attached, so Jim's father loved her; tall, with long auburn curls, legs longer than a giraffe, flawless ivory skin, big blue eyes, luscious lips and a perfectly toned and curvaceous body, so _Jim_ loved her. Jim loved her, dammit. Bitch. 

And how would Blair fit in to their cosy little love nest? What kind of newly weds would want the groom's best friend firmly ensconced under the stairs? Not that Jim had said anything...yet, but _Vivian_ was clearly all set to pick out china patterns and pretty new slipcovers. Bitch. 

Evil, scheming, low-down partner stealing bitch. Except she wasn't, not really, in fact, she was probably quite a decent person, well respected, well liked and well...well, pretty much perfect for Jim. Not her fault she didn't like Jim spending so much time with Blair, or, to be precise, _any_ time with Blair. Hell, _he_ didn't like Jim spending so much time with _her_ , but did that make him a bad person? No, of course it didn't. He just missed his friend, that was all. 

Missed having breakfast with him, missed watching TV with him, missed arguing about how much salt was too much with him; missed going camping, going to games and just plain going home with him. Just...missed him. 

And now he had a whole long weekend alone to miss him. _Vivian_ wanted culture, and Cascade, apparently, did not meet her exacting standards, so she had wheedled Jim into accompanying her to D.C for a fun-filled weekend of sightseeing and sucking up to her fancy college friends. What a blast. 

He was glad he had made an excuse to get out of going, and anyway, Jim was probably only asking him out of a sense of guilt for leaving him alone so much. Besides, the look on Vivian's face at the offer was _more_ than enough to convince Blair that playing third wheel was _so_ not his thing. 

Sighing, Blair picked up the local papers, turning to the accommodation section. Jim might not have asked him to leave, but it was just a matter of time before he did. He might as well start trying to find himself a new home, or a decent space to crash at least. He couldn't really call it a home since all it would be was a place to live, but then, _nowhere_ would be home unless Jim was in it, and the only home Jim would be in would be the one _Vivian_ made for him. Bitch bitch bitch. 

Blair couldn't help wondering if this obsession with Jim's love life was entirely healthy, or appropriate. Was it normal to hate the woman your best friend was rapidly falling in love with _quite_ this much? Probably not, but then very little in their lives followed the normal rules of friendship. All the same, he really wished that Jim had never met Vivian, or any other woman with whom he could contemplate residing in happy ever after marital bliss. Truth be told, Blair would love to have been the _only_ person Jim could ever want to spend forever with. 

* * *

"I'll have this one too, oh, and the French Vogue if you have it, and, let me see..." 

Jim moved away, realising that the difficult task of magazine selection was going to be a long and arduous procedure. Blair would simply have picked up a National Geographic, the National Enquirer...his enquiring mind _always_ wanted to know, the latest schlock horror blockbuster and he'd have been all set for the weekend. Still, you couldn't expect a woman to be as undemanding as Blair, especially one as sophisticated as Vivian. 

Vivian really was an amazing woman. Smart, stunning face and hair, a body that could fuel his fantasies for the rest of the millennium and a great personality to boot. He was lucky she'd even look at him, let alone want to date him. 

He wished Sandburg got along better with her, though. Maybe he was imagining it, but it really did seem that every time Vivian came over, the little dude was running for the door. No, it couldn't be anything to do with Vivian, she was great company; it must be something else, a problem at work, perhaps. Come to think of it, Sandburg had been somewhat moody of late, quite distant in fact. Jim frowned at the idea of Blair with a problem and not sharing it with him; what were friends for, after all. 

His musings were cut short by the return of Vivian, now adequately stocked up with light reading. More than adequately judging by the size of the bundle tucked into the top of her Lacroix weekend bag. He smiled at her, delighting in her radiant presence, convinced that the coming weekend was going to be wonderful. A pity Sandburg had been too busy to come along, that would have made it perfect. 

* * *

Jim, looked at Vivian, comfortably sprawled in the aisle seat. His aisle seat. He _always_ sat in the aisle seat to give him room to stretch out his long legs. _Blair_ always let him sit in the aisle seat. "Blair always lets me sit in the aisle seat." 

"Oh, Really?" 

"Yes. Always. I get cramped if I don't sit in the aisle seat, so he lets me. Always." 

"He really shouldn't let you dominate him like that, it's not good for either of you." 

"I do _not_ dominate him. We're friends, he lets me have that seat because we're friends." 

"Come on now, Jim, you have to admit you can be a little intimidating. Don't tell me you've never tried to bully him into doing things your way." 

"I haven't...never, well, only for his own good. We're friends, he lets me have stuff I want because he wants me to be happy. He cares about me; we're _friends_." 

"If you say so." 

"I do, I do say so. He let's me have the aisle seat because he doesn't like me to get cramped...he's _happy_ to let me have it." 

"Oh, well, he's so short, I suppose he doesn't need the leg room." 

"He's not _that_ short." 

"Oh Jim, he's practically a midget." 

"He is _not_ a midget, just because maybe he's not as tall as _some_ people, that doesn't make him a _midget_." 

"He's short for a man." 

"So? You're tall for a woman but you don't hear Sandburg wandering around calling you...uh...uhm...ostrich legs." 

"I'm model height, and...svelte...I have a model's figure, everyone says so." 

"Blair has a nice body too, compact...solid..." 

"Short." 

All of a sudden, Vivian didn't seem quite so alluring. She also showed no signs of moving. Jim squeezed past her, folding his body into the entirely inadequate space only the airlines could ever consider sufficient for an adult person. Unfortunately for Jim, this moment turned out to be the high point of his weekend. 

* * *

Jim looked over at his soon to be ex-girlfriend, wondering how he could ever have found her attractive and interesting. The weekend had been an eye-opener, Vivian stunning him with her callous and constant denigration of his partner and best friend. 

Just because he had mentioned Sandburg once or twice, that was no reason to belittle and vilify him, or act as if he were somehow interfering in their relationship. How could he be doing that anyway, when he was in Cascade and they were in D.C.? All he had done was point out that Sandburg would let him have beer with his meal if he wanted to; that Sandburg would never make him shop for five hours straight, one hour and seven minutes of which were spent by Vivian deciding _not_ to buy a pair of shoes, and, in the unlikely event of Sandburg _ever_ dragging him through pretentious designer store after pretentious designer store, then he sure as hell would have let Jim spend more than a _nanosecond_ browsing in the power tools and homewares department. You could never have too many appliances. 

And really, he couldn't see why Vivian was so upset when he had simply pointed out to that pompous ass of a congressional something-or-other friend of hers that Sandburg knew way more about the rape of the environment than he did. Sandburg was smart, and...and _aware_. He _knew_ that stuff, was a tree hugger from way back. It wasn't like he'd lied or anything, so how could it be _his_ fault her friend took it the wrong way and sulked through the rest of dinner. And Vivian had sulked through the rest of their stay, sulked and scorned Sandburg. Bitch. 

And now, here they were, back in sunny Cascade, and personally, Jim couldn't wait to get home. With any luck, Sandburg would be there and they could spend some time together, catch up a little. He had wasted so much time on Vivian that he had quite lost track of his friend. 

But for now, he still had to deal with _Vivian_. He had brought her, and it was his duty to take her home, whether he wanted to or not. He decided it was time to broach their travel arrangements, as they hadn't had a chance to talk on the way back since the flight had been fully booked and they had been unable to sit together. Shame that. She might refuse a lift, being as she was currently ignoring him, but he supposed that he should at least offer, and if she did prefer to never come within striking distance of him ever again, he could always pay for the taxi; never let it be said that Jim Ellison didn't know how to show a girl a good time. 

"My trucks over this way." 

"I'll take a taxi." 

"Fine. I'll pay." 

"Fine." 

"Fine. There's one." 

"Good. I'm sure you're in a hurry to get home to your little roommate." 

"And what's _that_ supposed to mean?" 

"It means you and the midget deserve each other, he's perfect for you." 

"He is _not_ a..." Jim scowled at the rear window of the rapidly diminishing taxi. God, he _really_ hated not getting the last word. 

* * *

Ahh, it was good to be home. He opened out his hearing, detecting the familiar heartbeat in the small bedroom. Even better, Sandburg was home too. 

"Hey, I'm home." 

"Jim? Man that's great, I wasn't expecting you 'till later." 

Jim smiled happily at his friend, watching, as he emerged from his room, dishevelled and sloppy to stroll over to the fridge and extract a beer, uncapping it and handing it to Jim. Feeling a little uneasy at the gesture, Jim remembered Vivian's accusation that he sometimes bullied Sandburg. He wouldn't be getting Jim a beer because he felt intimidated, would he? 

"Sandburg, I'm not intimidating." 

"Sometimes you are, when you have to be." 

"Well sure, on the job, but I don't bully _you_." 

"No of course you don't. I wouldn't let you." 

"Exactly, that's exactly what I said. I don't bully you; you don't let me dominate you. I _said_ that." 

"Who said you bullied me?" 

"Vivian." 

"Oh, well, you don't." 

"No, and you don't mind letting me have the aisle seat either." 

"Of course I don't; I wouldn't want you to get cramped. I'm you're friend." 

"I knew that, I told her." 

"Good." 

"Chief, you would never make me shop for hours and hours, and not let me even stop to look at some real nifty drill with all kinds of attachments." 

"Unlikely." 

"And you let me have beer when I want it, and you wouldn't make me go to _the_ most boring exhibition in existence." 

"I did take you to that early Mayan Arts and Crafts show." 

"Yeah, but that had all those really cool spears and knives and scary masks. That was a _good_ exhibition. It didn't have dirty old sheets and...and grubby piles of trash, and...nasty stuff." 

"Is that what she took you to?" 

"Yes. She said it was modern art, but it was mostly just junk; why would anyone want to go look at garbage? That's just wrong." 

"I'm sure it has some deep significance to someone, but I'm surprised Vivian thought you would enjoy it." 

"I don't think she really cared whether I would or not. It was the _in_ place to be seen, so we went." 

"Oh." 

"You know lots about the environment, don't you? And you're not so short." 

"I like to keep myself informed on environmental issues, and...uh, Jim, I _am_ kinda short." 

"I didn't say you weren't short at all, just not _so_ short...not a midget." 

"Well no, not a midget." 

Satisfied that all his issues were now clarified, Jim reached for the bottle still in Blair's outstretched hand. Blair, on the other hand, was considerably more confused than he had been prior to Jim's confidences. 

"Uh...Jim..." 

"Vivian really hates you." 

"Just because I'm short? That's a little harsh." 

"No, not because you're short. She's jealous of you." 

"Of me, why?" 

"Because she thinks I care more about you than I do about her." 

"Oh." 

"And she says I'd rather spend time with you than with her." 

"Oh. Is she right?" 

"Of course, we have fun together. You like to do all the same things as me, and even when you make me do weird stuff, it usually turns out to be fun, or really really dangerous, but never boring; I never get bored when I'm with you." 

"Oh, well, that's good. I never get bored with you either." 

"Chief, I had the worst weekend. You should have been there." 

"Why, so I could have a lousy time too?" 

"It wouldn't have _been_ lousy if you had been there. We could have made fun of Vivian's friends; they were born to be ridiculed, but I couldn't do it on my own. Why didn't you come?" 

"Jim, you were going on a romantic weekend away with Vivian, so don't you think having me along would be one roommate surplus to requirements." 

"No, you could never be surplus to my requirements, you _are_ my requirement. Vivian said you were perfect for me...I guess even she had to be right about something." 

"She said I'm...uh...Jim, what do you mean, exactly?" 

"Just, you know, what's the point in us going on dating different people when everything's so much better when it's just us." 

"Well, except that we're not having sex." 

"No." 

"So unless..." 

"Not yet." 

"You want...huh...what did you...huh?" 

"I said not yet." 

"So...what?" 

"Come on, Sandburg, what's so hard about this? We belong together, and since I don't intend to be celibate, and I'm assuming you don't either, we should start having sex. Together. Making love. We should make love." 

"But...I mean, Jim...uh...we can't...we're not...Jim?" 

"What's the problem? You do _want_ to be with me, don't you?" 

"Well yeah, I...uhm...love you, but...uh..." 

"Then?" 

"But...I've never, I mean, I've always dated women, and last time I looked so have you." 

"Sure." 

"Jim, I'm not a woman." 

"I can see that, I am a Sentinel you know." 

"This is not the time for levity, man. Now, just to be clear, you're not attracted to men, and yet you're attracted to me...a man?" 

"Right." 

"And being attracted to me...a man...doesn't freak you out?" 

"Being attracted to just _any_ man probably would, but you're, you know, _you_." 

"I'm _me_? What, me being me makes it okay?" 

"Right, you're you. I love you." 

"Oh. You do?" 

"Why else would I want to have sex with you." 

"I'm sorry Jim, I think I must have missed a step here. I thought you meant, you know, love like a brother, so when did we get from being friends involved in a mutually caring relationship to having sex with each other?" 

"Are you saying you don't _want_ to have sex with me...what's _wrong_ with me?" 

"Nothing at all Jim, you're a very attractive man...it's the _man_ bit that's kind of a hurdle for me." 

"I have very nice man bits." 

"I'm sure you do, the bits I've seen have been outstanding, but still...uh...male, as in not...female." 

"And you don't think you could get over that?" 

"I don't know, I've never really thought about it." 

"Well, start." 

"Jim..." 

"You do at least love me don't you?" 

"Of course I do, but..." 

"You think I'm attractive?" 

"Oh yeah." 

"And you want to be with me." 

"All the time." 

"You don't want to be with anyone else?" 

"No." 

"Or want me to be with anyone else?" 

"No." 

"So?" 

"So you have a point." 

"Enough of a point for us to give it a try?" 

"Maybe, perhaps." 

"Well good." Swooping, Jim swept Blair into his arms, tossing him back onto the couch then throwing himself down on top of him. 

"Jim, what are you...Jim!" 

"What, you said we were going to try this." 

"But I didn't think you would just...you know...pounce." 

"I have a jaguar as my spirit animal; pouncing is in my nature." 

"Oh...oh Jim, do you think that this...attraction between us is Sentinel related?" 

"Who cares? Are you wearing the nipple ring?" 

"Huh...uh...no." 

"Oh well, maybe next time. I love your hair." 

"Oh...uh...you do?" 

"Oh yeah." 

"I...uhm...I really love your arms." 

"Really?" 

"Aha, can I...uhm..." 

"Sure, go ahead, stroke away, want me to take the shirt off?" 

"Yes. Jim, you're holding me kinda tight." 

"Is that a problem?" 

"No, not really, I was just saying. This is...nice, I think I could get used to it." 

"That's good, 'cause I don't plan on letting you go anytime soon." 

"I don't plan on letting you." 

"You know, Vivian said we deserved each other, looks like she was right about that, too, because I _absolutely_ plan on giving you everything you deserve." 

"Mmmn, I could _really_ get used to this." 

* * *

End Getting What You Deserve by Remma: morennab@yahoo.co.uk

Author and story notes above.

  
Disclaimer: _The Sentinel_ is owned etc. by Pet Fly, Inc. These pages and the stories on them are not meant to infringe on, nor are they endorsed by, Pet Fly, Inc. and Paramount. 


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